


Out of the rain

by Shatterflowerdemon



Series: Reader inserts [12]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Mafiafell (Undertale), Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Grillby's Restaurant (Undertale), Mafiafell Sans (Undertale), Not Beta Read, Other, Out of the rain and into the fire would be a more appropriate title lol, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Reader has a job, Something that was bothering me, Swearing, nameless reader - Freeform, reader is done with everyones shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterflowerdemon/pseuds/Shatterflowerdemon
Summary: You met him at a bar.To be fair, it was a very nice bar. You didn't usually go to those kinds of joints straight after work, but it had started raining, and you were not looking forward to getting soaked. Thankfully, you had noticed Grillby's open, and it was awfully convenient. It being in the 'monster' side of down didn't perturb you. Monsters were already involved in your life.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Reader inserts [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042395
Comments: 54
Kudos: 122





	1. Meeting Bones

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, not an update to my other reader inserts. This was inspired by Catsitta's work and 'sooner or later you're gonna be mine' by Staringback. 
> 
> Not sure how long I'll make this one tbh, if I even finish it. Not exactly my priority right now.

You met him at a bar. 

To be fair, it was a very nice bar. You didn't usually go to those kinds of joints straight after work, but it had started raining, and you were not looking forward to getting soaked. Thankfully, you had noticed Grillby's open, and it was awfully convenient. It being in the 'monster' side of down didn't perturb you. Monsters were already involved in your life.

Hoping to avoid the growing torrent outside, you slumped into Grillby's. The first thing you noticed was the warmth the bar radiated. It was a harsh difference to the biting chill, and it helped soothe your strung-out nerves. Today's work was not what you would call peachy, and you knew that coming into a public place with a wire down your spine may not be the most advisable, but damn it, you were not washing this coat again. 

Several monsters eyed you as you walked up the bar. You didn't give a fuck. They could ogle all they wanted to as long as you got something to eat. A fire-man, literally, walked in front of you and placed a menu down. You took the cue and ordered swiftly. No time for bullshit. You could steep yourself into the aura of this place another time. 

Healing people was no walk in the park, and it especially wasn't in this city. Crime littered the streets, it seemed like. Not that you were heavily complaining since the hospital's pay was so good. 'Hazard pay,' they called it, but you knew it was just an incentive for anyone licensed to stay. Even with the dangers, there were enough reasons for you to stay in this city. Your neighbors, for one. They were one of the few monster families in your neighborhood, and their kid often got into scrapes. You were really fond of them at this point. You patched MK up, babysat them, and picked them up from school after a fight, once. You were practically family, according to their parents. 

You're snapped from your thoughts by the fire elemental from earlier plopping down your order. "Thanks, looks good. Do you prefer G or?" you ask him. It's not that out of the ordinary for monsters to use G. you were told they considered it more credible than human money. Which was fair considering human money was mostly paper, and not every monster could easily hold onto the stuff. Would fire dude, presumably Grillby, prefer a nonflammable currency? 

"G is fine," he replies low enough for just you to hear. Maybe that's just his natural voice. You weren't going to ask, so you mentally calculate the right amount of G and slide it his way. The elemental hisses minutely, takes the G and walks around the bar. You don't see where he goes. Not a bad interaction in retrospect. You'd seen far more volatile patients at the ED.

"bit late fer humans to be wanderin' round, 'specially in these parts."

Huh? You look towards the voice. A big-boned skeleton, heh, nurses a glass to your left. The identity of the contents escapes you. Well, you knew his type. 

"Mhm," you respond before returning to your meal. Best to mind your own business. You rather liked the food, and getting into a bar fight might ruin the chances of you eating here again. Not to mention the melancholy look you'd get from MK the next day. 

It wasn't worth it. 

Plus, the adoring neighbor in you wanted to bring MK food from here, if not bring them here. The magic packed into the food must be something else, considering the decent amount in your meal. Naturally, the chef would tone it down for a human, whether out of goodwill or not. It was to be expected.

"whatcha doin' here, pal?" Asks the skeleton again. Motherfucker.

"Eating," you reply with the most neutral voice you can muster. Sarcasm may not be your best friend right now in this joint.

"no shit. We don't usually get your kind out here, so don't mind me conversatin'."

Ah, sure. Conversation. Just what you wanted. You push down the urge to roll your eyes. 

"I don't mind," you reply. Much, you don't mind much. 

Aggravation still flares in your joints, but you'd see how the skeleton played this. Was he going to threaten you out of this place? Fucker might even whip out the 'I'll eat your soul' bit that scared away the weak-willed. Bitch, you have nerves of steel. 'try me, Bones.'

"cool, then ya won't mind me askin' a bit o questions, right?" 

You release a long-suffering sigh. "No, I haven't killed a monster, no, you can't scare me away, and no, I absolutely don't believe that you can eat my soul. We done?"

All common questions you'd heard before from monsters. You reckoned they were somewhat warranted, with you being apart of a fucked up species that borderline enslaved them. Then again, did that stop your irritation? No. Was it that fucking hard to ask for no more nine degrees from almost every paranoid monster that you meet?! In public, no less?

"heh. I dunno if yer ballsy or stupid."

You meet his eyelights and plop a fry into your mouth. "The jury is still out." Against your expectation, he laughs. It's what you would call a belly laugh, but he was a skeleton. 

"aight, so what's ya angle?" he asks with a razor-sharp expression. You shoot him a confused look and finish your fries. He knocks back his drink, and the movement makes his various rings catch the light. Aesthetic. "well, it ain't every day that human waltzes into here, you a nut case or somethin'?" 

You snort harshly. "No offense, but you guys don't make me shiver in my boots, metaphorical or not." With a glance outside, you can see the sky is raining buckets. Well, that's just fine. You could always order another drink or ignore the fuck outta this guy. Maybe both. 

"thems fightin' words, human," the skeleton jabs at you. His grin lets you know that he isn't actually serious. You laugh. If only he knew the shit that you put up with at the hospital. This wasn't shit compared to the reactions of some of your monster patients. They could be prideful. 

"Names ____, actually," you quip and knock back your own drink. It doesn't burn as you expected, and it has a taste you can't place. Seems that you had picked well. Thankfully, the menu said it had a low enough alcohol level that even a human would have to make an effort to get drunk off it. Stumbling home drunk at night? Yeah, no. What a bad example for MK. It was way classier to get dropped off while drunk. 

"hmmm, I dunno. 'Human' has a nice ring to it." Bones winks at you. Alright, sure, why not. You arch an eyebrow at him and rest your chin on your palm. 

"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if I called you Bones, right? Nice ring and all that."

He chuckles, "touche, it's Sans, by the way." You aren't sure why you extend your hand for a shake, but now that you'd done it, you weren't going to regret it. 

"nice ta meetcha," Sans says. You give him a slightly strained smile. Damned ED shift. He shakes your hand, and you get the impression that his grip could get way stronger if he wanted it to.

"Likewise, I think."

You leave when the rain stops. Not your worst conversation. You just might come back


	2. Into the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, another chapter! Don't worry tho! Still writing for AIR and CBATIA. This fic is probably going to be shorter by comparison.

It's a week before you come back. For once, you feel rested. MK passed their science test; to the pleasure of you and their parents. They preened under your combined pride, and you knew you had to get them something, as positive reinforcement. Totally not that you wanted an excuse to get them something. Nah.`

You're mildly surprised to see Sans parked at the same seat from the last time you'd see him. He must be a regular. Thankfully, you had time to get something to drink before bringing your 'bribe' to MK. If they got a treat for a good grade, then they'd work to do it again, right? Eh, whatever, the kid hadn't gotten in a fight for at least a week. Reward totally warranted. (you would have gotten them something regardless.) 

You sit down beside Sans, the same seat as last time. It would be rude not to at this point, right? Grillby is attending another patron, so you decide to say hello to Sans. Sure, he seemed like an asshole at first, but MK was like that too. The kid had seen some shit. 

"Hey, Sans. Fancy seeing you here," you greet. The broad shoulder skeleton turns your way, and you notice the cellphone tucked next to his skull. Oops. He doesn't look upset, and you smile weakly at him. What a faux pas. Definitely the blunder of the hour. Sans extends a thick finger in a 'one moment' gesture. You give him a thumbs up and avert your eyes out of mild embarrassment. You try to tune out the one-sided conversation to your left. Keyword: try. 

"mhm, Yeah, Boss. I cleaned house. Yep. Crystal. See ya."

Grillby comes your way just as Sans ends the call. The fire elemental slides a menu your way. You order a drink for yourself and a to-go cake. Without a beat, you fork over the G. Grillby doesn't nod. Instead, he takes the G and heads around to what is most likely the kitchen entrance. Sans taps his fingers rhythmically on the countertop of the bar. 

"look what tha cat dragged in," he rumbles pleasantly. You plop your chin in your hand and give him a vaguely bemused look. 

"I think you forgot how to say 'it's nice to see you again, but thanks," you snark. A ragged looking dog monster down a few seats gives you a look you can't place. You shrug it off. They must not know how to interpret a joke or had a bad day. 

"gotta be honest, didn't think you'd have the guts to come 'round again," Sans says. 

You smile, a touch wryly. "you don't know me very well, then." It doesn't disturb him based on the flirty look taking over his skull. With surprisingly mild emotions, you watch his eyesockets lid. His grin widens, and the low timbre of his voice does something to you. 

"that could change, y'know." Shit. The skin underneath your collar warms. Your knee jerk reaction is to chuckle and cover your mouth with your hand. As if it was divine intervention, Grillby comes back with your drink and a to-go box. You smile, and it feels a bit lopsided on your face. Smooth fucker. 

"speechless, eh? Don' worry, I'm a patient guy." Sans smooths things over before you open your mouth to say something stupid. The universe must be taking pity on you since your phone rings. It's MK. You pick it up. 

"how's the smartest kid doing?" you greet them. MK garbles something intelligible, and you laugh, nerves soothed. MK was fine, just flustered. It took your mind off Sans for a second. "Your favorite entle just secured you a sweet snack, y'know, if you aren't too grown for that anymore." You snicker when they hastily inform you that they still eat sweets. Sweet-toothed youngin. "I'll be at your house in a few, pinky swear, you up to games tonight?" you ask them. MK chirps happily and agrees. Even without arms, they didn't let shit stop them. MK was good like that. The two of you say your goodbyes, and you hang up. Today just kept getting better!

"nibling a yers?" asks Sans. You smile.

"Yep. A real good kid that lives in my area, they did good on their quiz," you tap on the to-go box, "that's what this is for." Sans huffs a tiny bit, and his shark-like grin stretches a bit. 

"that's sweet, yer the dotin' neighbor," he observes. 

You wag a finger at him. "proud neighbor and honorary entle is my full title, thank you very much." He hmms and swirls the yellow liquid in his glass around. It must be a classy drink; it would fit his three-piece suit, rings, and homburg hat. You idly wondered what he did for a living. You sip your drink. It's smooth and has a hint of what you would most likely call cherry. It was hard to identify all the flavors of monster food and drinks sometimes. 

"so, honorary entle, I know ya gotta run in a jiffy but say I gave ya my number," Sans says. His expression shows no attempt at humor. You hmm and whisk your glass around in your grasp. 

"I just might take it," you reply while making steadfast eye-to-eyelight contact. Sans' expression livens up. You notice his shoulders relax. He pats his coat pockets and his browbones furrow. "You good?" 

"I uh, ain't got a pen or paper on me," he answers, eyelights moving to side in concentration. 

You chuckle and take your phone out. "Welcome to the 21st century, Sans." He belly laughs and slaps a big hand over his face. 

"damn, I oughta have thought of that." 

You slide your phone his way for him to input his digits. "That's alright. It wasn't as bad as me interrupting your phone call earlier. Sorry for that, by the way." 

"Psh, Nah. Would rather talk to ya than that bag a bones anyways," he speaks while typing on your phone. How does he do that without fingerprints? Magic, probably, your mind supplants.

"Oh, am I that entertaining?" you attempt to flirt. Sans sends you a look that has a chill running down your spine, and it wasn't from the temperature. 

"Definitely."

MK kicks your ass at PVP that night. It has everything to do with your focus being partially split. Sans' number in your phone feels heavy.


	3. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make a phone call and eat dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I couldn't bear to split this chapter. Hope you like the characterization for the reader. I really enjoyed writing this!

He texts you first. The two of you go back and forth before you send your goodnights. In the morning of the next day, he calls. The appeal of twirling a phone cord is very evident to you now. If you didn't need a hand to keep the phone to your ear, you'd be using it to fiddle something. 

"I uh, hope ya don't mind me callin' n' all, them tiny buttons get aggravatin'." You chuckle. Sans did seem like the type to fat finger. The dude has sausage fingers minus flesh. Sausage phalanges?

"It's all good, I was up anyway," you soothe, "I'm glad you did call, actually." 

His voice rumbles in your ear, albeit a bit scratchy from the phone. "ya don't say." Sans sounds pleased and a bit smug. It doesn't deter you in the slightest. Your free hand taps a pattern on your leg, and you resist the urge to bite your nails. "what's a guy gotta do ta get a spot in ya weekly planner? Askin' for a friend," he quests. You snort. 'A friend,' Yeah, and you are the queen of England.

"Hmm," you pretend to think, tapping your fingers a little slower on your leg, "this 'friend' of yours could start by asking, I heard that's the rage with planner toting singles these days." 

"don't suppose you're in that group?" he asks, flirtation and playfulness bleeding through your mobile device. 

"Maybe, depends on who's asking."

Another chuckle. "I'm askin'."

"I'm sure I could squeeze you in somewhere. I may not carry a planner, but I do know my work schedule," you pause, "I'm free for today and Wednesday for sure. Do either of those work for you?"

There's a rustle on the other end. Paper, maybe? Did he get that planner quip from experience? "Wednesday sounds perfect." Damn, how did he manage to squeeze so much elation into three words? It did weird things to your stomach. 

The two of you work out a time and meeting place. You may have decent vibes from this guy, but you were not giving out your address. Well, you had a hunch about him, but he had given no prior indication that he would hurt you physically. You were pretty damn good at sniffing out bullshit. It was a prized feature at your job and had saved your ass before. Dodging bullets was one way to evade being shot, but so was avoiding the gunman entirely.

Wednesday rolls around either too fast or too slow, of which you can't decide. You dress in a nice (but not overly so) outfit. The day is pleasant when you step outside. MK was at school, so you didn't run into them on your way to the park. Why drive when it was so close? You weren't worried about anyone fucking with you, either. Sans is kind of a beefcake, for one. For two? Well, hopefully, you didn't have to resort to that. 

You shoot Sans a text when you near the park. With a cursory glance, you don't see him. Shrugging to yourself, you sit on a lone bench. It's positioned so you can see the entrance-exit of the park. A notification pops onto your phone from Sans sending back a short affirmative. A smile weeds itself onto your expression. Even if nothing came of this, you would hopefully have an easy-going friend. A pit wormed itself into your gut. You wanted this to be something. 

"Hey."

You whip your head towards the source of the sound. It's Sans! Your shoulders slump, and your hands relax. "Phew, you startled me." He rounds the side of the bench and sits next to you. Internally you chuckle because he left room for Jesus. He dabs sweat off his vertebrae with a handkerchief. Is he nervous? 

"Sorry," he amends, looking back over you almost bashfully, "you look nice." You smile and edge a little closer to him on the bench. Now, the gap isn't wide enough for another person to squeeze between you. Fortunately, this bench was wide enough to accommodate Sans. 

"Thank you, you do too," you reply, and it's true. Sans is dressed up a little bit more than you usually see him. That doesn't say a lot considering you've only seen him in formal wear, but still. At least his shoes are shinier, and his tie is perfectly straight. You can tell he put in the effort. His cologne pleasantly wafts over you as he extends his hand to you. 

"Ready?"

You put your palm in his. Sans stands up without jarring you and pauses to make sure you get up okay. His consideration warms you. Even if the guy made you want to ask some questions, he had treated you well so far. But you'd approach that conversation later. 

Sans guides you out of the park and down into town. He consciously walks on the outside closest to the cars. You hold onto his arm. The walk is delightful. Conversation flows between you easily on the way to the restaurant. 

"'s a classy place, I promise," he says when you reach a new street. You deduce the fancy-looking place in front of you is the destination. Sans holds the door for you. You step into the restaurant with passing thanks to Sans. The interior doesn't scream ritz, but it's close enough to it. Maybe a yell? The lighting is warm and gives everything an intimate glow. You presume the floor waxed regularly based on its sheen. 

A host notices you straightaway and makes a beeline towards you. "reservation?" they ask politely. Sans comes to stand beside you. 

"Aster." The host flips through a black book they're holding and nods. With it promptly being shut, they lead you to a table sequestered away from the other patrons. You notice it's near the kitchens. Sans sighs exasperatedly and pulls a chair out for you. You take the menus from the host and sit. Sans pushes you in, and instead of making you feel patronized, it makes you feel a tad cared for. Time would tell how long this lasts, though. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask Sans after the host leaves. His grin falls a bit. 

"'s nothin' much, really," he attempts to assuage. 

You level him with a deadpan look. "you sure?" He sighs and cats a look at the kitchen.

"My bro kinda put us back here," he gestures to the area around you, "I mean, he does work here, but usually he doesn't do stuff like this."

Odd, but alright. So, Sans' brother pulled some strings? Were you going to get the sibling nine degrees? You look at the kitchen door as if it'll answer you. It doesn't. You sigh a bit and open your menu. "well, guess we'll see what happens." Sans chuckles, a tad nervous. 

"heh...right." 

A waiter comes over to take your orders. Sans orders lasagna and encourages you to do the same. You do. 

"trust me, my bro goes ham with pasta," Sans quips as he passes your menus to the waiter. 

You grin, "Well, I'd be bananas if I didn't take such wise advice."

The wait time is ruthlessly short. You barely get in some small talk before a looming shadow drapes over the table. Sans looks up and tucks away his sweaty handkerchief. "heya, Boss."

"Sans," greets a tall skeleton. You blink up at him, stunned. "And you must be the human my brother has...taken a shine to."

You smile a bit, humored. "Nice to see you again, although I doubt you remember me. How're the ribs?" you ask 'Boss' pleasantly. This guy couldn't intimidate you if he tried. You'd seen him leaking marrow and dopped up on various healing treatments. The tall skeleton leans over to get a better look at you. His outfit is a bit silly but sort of endearing. He dons a fedora, apron, button-up, and tweed pants. 

"HUH?" 'Boss' asks, voice rising dramatically. It's almost comical. 

"oh, yeah. Didn't I mention I work at the hospital?" you shoot the question at both brothers. Sans nods, and you can see him twisting his rings around. A nervous tic?

"I Do Not Recognize You." 

You shrug and swirl your glass around. "To be fair, you were in rough shape. Glad you seem to be doing okay, though. Sans mentioned you work here," you attempt to be conversational. Hopefully, your attempts would mellow the atmosphere out. Sans doesn't seem distressed, thankfully, just tense. This seems to relax his brother a bit, though. You dare say the taller skeleton seems to preen. 

"Yes, I own this place. I insisted my brother come here should he ever take on a date-mate. He seems oh so found of that grease trap," he spits out, "Grillby's."

You're suddenly a tad more invested. Sans seems to be hanging onto every word exchanged between you and his elder(?) brother.   
"Oh, that's pretty cool. Kudos on all of this," you wave around at the restaurant. Grillby's is wonderful, and all, but I can appreciate fine dining."

'Boss' stands straighter and looks from you to his brother. He nods at Sans. "Very well, I can tell you have some decency, even if your taste in both dates and eateries is questionable. Have a pleasant evening." He turns to walk away but pauses and sends a look you cannot decipher to his shorter brother. "Do not forget your paperwork." You and Sans both watch him head straight out the backdoor. Did he make your meal, conversate, and leave? Did he even clock out? Well, you guessed it didn't matter since he was 'The Boss.'

"heh, sorry 'bout that. He did make me promise 'bout that date thing. Was the only thing that would get 'im off my back, once."

You shake your head and twist your fork in the lasagna. "It's no big deal. I think it's a bit sweet. Plus, it was good to see he's doing well." You split your focus between Sans and the pasta.

"Yeah. Didn't know ya was one of the healers that worked on 'im. How'd ya remember?" he inquires with genuine curiosity. 

"I didn't see him much after the emergency stuff. I helped get him stable, and that was most of it. His case stood out to me."  
You leave the 'he was found in an alley in mob territory with shot wounds' out of the sentence. Now you knew a bit more about what the two skeletons were into. 

"Yeah? Thanks." You give Sans a knowing look. Those two cared about each other, and that could mean a lot in a city like this. 

"It's no problem, really." 

And that's that. Dinner continues without a hitch until he walks you back to the park. He offers to walk you home, but you shake off his worries. You got this shit. All in all, you felt good about how things went. Now, if only you could remember the taller brother's name. Oh well. 

You get a weird feeling on your walk. 

With a sneaky glance at a glass window and a properly placed phone screen, you see a shadowy figure behind you. How unfortunate. You weigh your options but decide to decide already. You slow your walking to pretend to dig around your bag. Jokes on the guy following you. 

"stupid..where the fuck did I put that lipstick..?" you complain. A glance out of the side of your eye and a prickle on your neck tells you enough. Before your assailant makes a move on you, your hands fly up to extend a cold barrel their way. They literally stare down the barrel of your handgun. 

"Fuck off. I won't hesitate," you announce. They toss up their hands appeasingly. Their features are obscured, but you know it's likely some kid trying to be cute. Their shitty technique and scuffed sneakers tell you enough. "Get moving," you bite out. The punk takes off. You huff and wait till they round a corner before sliding your gun into your pocket. Better safe than sorry. 

You get home just fine and treat yourself to your favorite show before bed. 

A distance away, a short skeleton laughs into the night from a rooftop.


	4. Lunch date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospital work and a good meal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Got inspo so I'm updating this ahead of 'schedule.' 
> 
> Let me know if I made any embarrassing mistakes, and if mentions of ins*nity or namecalling upset you, skip the end notes, and maybe this entire fic.

Sans laughs and laughs until his guffaws turn into chuckles. You were a riot! 

You seemed like the type to have a bit of spine, but this really cemented it. When you denied his offer to walk you back, Sans didn't know if you were just that prideful or ignorant of the lurking dangers in the city. He felt a bit stupid after it all went down. 

He had seethed in that oh so familiar way when the punk started tailing you. The fuckin nerve! Oh, but then, you clapped back. Sans had no idea you were packing heat. It's practical, certainly, but he didn't see it coming until the punk was staring down the barrel of your classy handgun. The sight didn't do anything to damper his attraction and interest in you. 

It added fuel to the fire. 

Sure, you looked less confident than the people he worked with, but you had spunk, and he was good at reading body language. The warning was there for everyone present to read. He wondered if you would pull the trigger. If you did, could he swoop in and make it better? If the punk got shot or (stars forbid) hurt you, would you try to call for his help? Would you whip the scrawny bastard three ways to Sunday? He didn't know what to expect. 

He knew that he already wanted to pound the bastard and not in a fun way. Anyone stupid enough to mess with someone under his metaphorical wing deserved it. Sans knew the moment you stood up to him that he had to know more about you. For the first time in a while (maybe his whole existence,) he didn't feel the need to look into someone's background and take apart their psyche like the battery of a watch. Sans wanted to get to know you the old fashioned way. It may seem a little fast, and Sans was not often the type to develop such an honest interest, but he was hooked. 

Call it what you want, but you tugged at his soul. Sans never wanted it to stop. Better yet: he knew you were receptive at some level. You made him feel like the decent guy he knew he wasn't. But maybe you were into that. 

He hoped so.

Work the day after your almost mugging is atrocious. You had to intimidate at least three patients before they allowed you to treat them. You were not in the fucking mood to hook a struggling monster to the Good Green. That's the lingo for the (sometimes) diluted green healing magic you usually push into monsters. The fleshy monsters were easiest next to the non-corporeal. They had to soak in a diluted variation of the stuff for longer, like ghost marination. You never asked how ghosts got hurt. You reckoned it depended on the monster? 

As if some star-send, you see a text on your phone during a brief break. It's from Sans. He wants to have lunch or something later. You text him an affirmative and what time you go on lunch. At least the hospital had good incentives like a nice and decent lunch break time. Your foot wasn't run over with a gurney more than twice today. It could have been worse. 

Sans just added a cherry on top of everything. You felt a sort of pull towards the skeleton. It drove you to want to know him better, but there was one tiny thing holding you back from taking the dive with him. The suspicious things you'd noticed. Maybe today would offer more clarification? 

Later, you clock out for lunch and take a short bus trip. Like hell, you were walking more than you needed to right now. You enter the respectable diner and sit down at a table. After a few minutes, you shoot him a text to let him know you're there. No response. To look a little less lonely, you order yourself a meal. Oh well. It's easier to talk without stuffing your face periodically. Sans would just have to eat alone if he arrives. 

Sans doesn't come. Instead, the intimidating visage of Boss enters. You tentatively raise your hand to him in greeting. He looks a tad....irritated. 

Boss sits down in the seat across you. You greet him, a bit amused at the contrast between his dark attire and the bright aesthetic of the diner. "Good Afternoon," he says in return.

"Where's Sans?" you ask, then you notice his tense body language. If he grips his pants leg any harder, you think the fabric will tear. At least his knees being visible over the table is comedic. 

"Sans is completing last-minute busywork and asked me to come...supervise."

You tap your fingers on the cold table. "So, like a babysitter, or a 'hey I can't make this appointment, go for me' kind of thing?" Boss grimaces and flags over a waitress. 

"The latter," he says before ordering a glass of water with no ice. The waitress eyes him wearily and looks at him in confusion. "Sensitive teeth," he explains before turning his head and ignoring her further. You smile at her in what you hope is an apologetic way. Maybe his teeth sensitivity has something to do with their triangular shape. Both of you sit in uncomfortable silence before you break it. 

"So what does Sans do for work?" 

Boss's eye socket twitches, and he leans in. Is he trying to intimidate you? You lean your head back to accommodate the new angle of Boss' skull. His eyelights remain locked in on your eyes. Unblinking, you take a bite of your burger. "Accounting," he says, moving back out of your space. You can't help the snort and amused expression. 'Accounting' your ass. Do you look stupid?

"What?" he asks. Well, he wasn't yelling at full volume but was certainly louder than you. You shrug. 

"It's hard for me to believe he's in accounting, but I also don't care either way."

"What do you know?" Boss hisses, red magic flaring in his eye socket. Wooooow. SO scary. What was he gonna do, stab you in a public place? If he was so worried about Sans' cover, then you knew he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize both of theirs. A criminal charge would throw the entire family into suspicion with enough evidence. 

You lift your hands in appeasement, palms facing Boss. "Dude, chill, I only had a hunch until now." That irritates him, you think, but at least he hasn't ordered a hit on you yet. All good things. 

"Explain," he demands darkly, arms crossed. You decide to fuck the consequences.

"It started with his vibe. I'd like to think my intuition is good sometimes. Then, he clearly has connections and the fact that I never saw him with a briefcase, and he also never discussed what he did in any sort of detail. I noticed he would observe the layout of a place like he was picking it apart in preparation for unpleasant business. You helped, too, once I recognized you."

Boss leans forward, clearly absorbed by your words.

"I had heard about how they found you. People at the hospital whisper when patients aren't around. All of these things on their own didn't say much, but together? they said enough."

"You're smart," papyrus says, "I don't know if that's in your favor or not."

You shrug. The jury is still out on a lot of things. "I know it's my job as a healer to heal people, but my morals are pretty fucked. Unless you guys prey on the innocent or kids, I don't really care. Call me jaded."

Boss gapes for a second before snapping his jaw shut. You watch the skeleton rifle through a leather wallet before slamming a tip of human currency on the table. He never got his water. He mutters 'of course he would,' as if he wasn't right there. Boss stiffly gets out of his seat, nods to you, and exits. You hum a bit, tapping your fingers and watching him stride out. 

Things were growing interesting by the week. Remembering your kinda-sorta love interest, you shoot him a text in thanks. He did send his brother to keep you company in his absence, after all. Now, you just have to see how long it takes Sans to grill you for information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boss: Your Date-Mate Is Fucking Insane 
> 
> Sans: I know. Aren't they the best?
> 
> Boss: .......WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED


	5. Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Lunch. You find a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. I only have one or two more ideas for this fic so that's why the updates are slow. Still not abandoning this! 
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Things I do on Tumblr: Post snippets, updates, headcanons, (fan)art and take requests/asks.

Sans calls you that evening. You pick up on the second ring. Is this the part where you play twenty questions? You can't decide whether Boss tipped your romantic interest off or not. There aren't many reasons why he wouldn't.

"Hello," you start. Yeah, that's plain and open-ended enough. It's best to let him guide the conversation. 

"Heya, sorry bout earlier. My boss gets real pissy sometimes when it comes ta paperwork."

Oh, you left the stove light on. You walk to it, phone in hand. "It's no problem. I know how that can be. Thanks for sending your brother, it was considerate of you." You cut the light off and plop on the couch again. The TV is muted. 

"Maybe I can make it up to ya?" Sly devil. 

You smile, "Got any ideas?" He hums in an overdramatic way. You laugh and he chuckles. 

"I got one. When are ya free?"

You pause and mentally recount your work schedule. Grocery shopping can be handled tomorrow. "Day after tomorrow is the soonest I'm free."

A shuffle on the other end of the phone. This is a pattern. "That works fer me. Same meetin' place?"

"Yep," you pop the 'p.' "Sounds good."

"Dunno what ya did to my brother but I think ya broke 'im," Sans says suddenly. You hold the phone away from you as you cackle. You, an ordinary citizen broke the skeleton involved with the shady business? That's a riot. Your laughter dies down. 

"Seriously? We talked for like, five minutes."

"Came in spoutin' some shi- stuff about you being jus as 'forsaken and unhinged' as me." Sans made his voice nasally when he quoted his brother. It sounded ridiculous. Perfect impression. 

"You don't have to worry about my 'sensitive sensibilities' or whatever. That's a fair assessment of my character. Kudos to Boss."

Sans snorts. You want to hear it again. "ain't tryna insult cha, just ain't used to ah, polite company ya could say." Go figure. At least he's self-aware and trying for your sake. It's cute but unnecessary. Maybe you ought to talk about honesty and open communication soon. Good plan. 

"That's alright. I'd rather get the real you instead of whatever diet shit uptown people want nowadays, y'know?"

"Yeah," Sans says, honestly and vulnerability shining through his words, "I get exactly whatcha mean."

Then, you get an awful and wonderful idea. "Hey, Sans?" He makes an affirmative noise. "What's your brother's name? Or is it just 'Boss' and I'm being insensitive?" 

Sans roars with laughter, "yer a trip, sweetheart, 's Edge, can't wait to poke fun at him bout that! Oh man, he's gonna lose it." A proud smile flits onto your face. Sans' laughs are cute whether they're bark-like, coming from his maybe metaphorical belly or low chuckles. Many people wouldn't associate 'cute' and the large skeleton. But you do and couldn't stop even if you wanted to. 

He'd have to gut someone like a fish in front of you or something to stop it. Oh, that brings up the information 'Edge' confirmed earlier. You sight up straighter in your seat. 

The thought of Sans getting up to shady business probably should deter you. Fortunately, for Sans and maybe you, it doesn't. Everyone's involved in something unpleasant these days. Hell, you've seen people's guts before at work! Maybe it's fucked up that you only have two reservations, children and the uninvolved, but there's no changing it. 

"Rib him a Lil extra for me too," you say. "Oh! I forgot!"

"Will do. Wassat?"

"Who's eldest? Out of curiosity."

"You wouldn't think it cuz of our height, but I've got years on 'im." Sans is still one large motherfucker. And tall. Broad, very broad. Shit, stop thinking about that!

"I can buy into it. You seem like the joking older brother type."

"hmm, issat right? You been thinkin' bout my type?" Smooth fucker. 

"I see your type every time I look in the mirror. Or am I wrong?"

Sans chuckles. It sounds like brass and whiskey. What the fuck does that even mean. The sound scrambles your brain for a moment. 

"Ya have no idea, sweetheart."

The phone conversation ends soon after that. It's signaled by some background yelling you instantly identify as Edge. Sans is meeting you at the park the day after tomorrow. Now you have Edge's full name unless the two brothers have different surnames. Unlikely with how similar they look. You need to ask Sans about his family soon anyways. Twenty questions sound like a good idea. Both of you are indeed past the point of associates and strangers, but you could due to get closer. Assuming the shit you're about to pull goes well. You're optimistic. 

You roll around some ideas before dialing a number. It's answered almost right away. 

"Hey," you greet while stretching the 'y.' "I need a favor."

Maria groans. "What have you done now?"

You huff indignantly, "ye have so little faith! Can you dig up some information if I give you a name? He may have an alias but I think you can handle it."

She sighs, "alright, but don't tell me anything over the phone. meet me for coffee at that one place tomorrow morning. Eight work for you?" You grimace. Tomorrow is your day off, but this is a favor you're asking. 

"Fine by me. Thank you!"

She huffs. "yeah, yeah, you're still buying." Aw man.

"Only cuz I love you! See you at eight." Maria hangs up and you feel accomplished. You're gonna get answers either way. Probably.

**Author's Note:**

> Reader, after leaving the bar: I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me.


End file.
